by Eliza Green
The car pulled up outside HQ in the early afternoon. Carl led Johan and the waif inside through a servant’s entrance at the back of the property.
‘Put them back to work,’ said Marcus. ‘I need to talk to Gaetano.’
‘You gonna ask him ’bout what this one said?’ Carl poked Johan in the back of his neck with his finger.
‘Yeah. I’ll come find you later. And feed that one. She’s almost dead. I need her alive.’
Marcus entered the house to find a flurry of activity that indicated business as usual. He caught sight of Enzo in the living room surrounded by the other associates. He was collecting money from their morning run to the markets and neighbourhoods. Everything felt normal. Had Johan been lying about Gaetano’s plans?
‘Is this is all you got?’ Enzo snarled at one. ‘My father won’t be happy.’
Enzo was the opposite of his father: brawn and no brains. The division of land between the factions had begun in the days leading to the World Government’s withdrawal of troops. Gaetano had sent men in to secure several open-sided neighbourhoods in Brooklyn with giant walls and gates. He then rounded up all the residents living outside the neighbourhoods and relocated them to the secured locations. Gaetano said that whoever controlled the people also controlled the land. On the day of the World Government’s departure, Gaetano made deals with the military who remained on Earth to protect government property. After early pushes into other factions’ territories, the factions agreed to stand down if land was divided up equally. That arrangement still held firm. But if Waverley gave the factions a way to break apart Gaetano’s empire, peace would not last.
Enzo looked up when Marcus entered the room. He had a feral look in his eye, similar to the waif’s from earlier. But Enzo’s look was a result of whatever drugs he’d taken.
The party boy. That’s what Carl and the other associates called him in private.
‘Where are the Indigenes?’ Enzo’s bloodshot eyes blazed. ‘What happened?’
Marcus had no interested in getting into it with Enzo while he was strung out. ‘Went as planned. Carl took them back upstairs. I need to check in with your father. Is he in his office?’
‘You’ll speak to me in his absence.’ Enzo slipped a knife from a sheath attached to his belt. He twisted it and the artificial light danced off the metal. He moved closer. ‘Nasty scar you’ve got there.’ He pressed the tip of the knife to Marcus’ neck. ‘We both know how you got it. But challenge me again and it won’t be your neck Gaetano will slice open next time.’ The knife slipped to the front of Marcus’ crotch. Marcus didn’t move. Never show weakness in front of the Agostinis. That was his motto. He needed to remain one step ahead.
‘Your father said I was to report back directly.’
‘Did you kill them?’ said Enzo. Excitement flashed in his eyes.
‘Only one. He was being uncooperative. I need to speak to Mr Agostini.’
Marcus stepped back far enough so the knife no longer touched Marcus. He flashed Enzo a smile. ‘Come on. What are we doing here?’
While the associates in the room watched, Marcus knew he couldn’t back down. He considered the possibility that Gaetano had given Enzo the job of picking off the first associate.
‘Come on, man.’ Marcus flashed his crooked teeth at Enzo. ‘You know what your father’s like? He’d make spaghetti out of my intestines if I didn’t report to him first.’
Enzo sheathed the knife and fear flashed in his eyes. Just what Marcus had always suspected: Enzo was as terrified of Gaetano as the rest of them were.
‘He’s not here.’
Marcus released a quiet breath. ‘Where is he?’
‘Out, on some business.’
Was he recruiting new associates, or negotiating with other factions, discussing which ones to cut loose?
‘When will he be back?’
‘Do I look like his fucking secretary?’ Enzo snarled. ‘Sometime tomorrow. Now get your fucking ass out to Waverley and get me my money.’
‘You mean your father’s money?’
Enzo pulled out the knife again and waved it around like a maniac. ‘That’s what I fucking said. Now get outta my sight before I cut you.’
Marcus left Enzo to carry on his meeting. There was no reasoning with when he was this high. He waited for Carl to return then motioned him outside.
Marcus took his usual seat in the back of the car.
‘What happened with Gaetano?’ said Carl from the front.
‘He’s not here.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Out, according to his rabid son.’
Carl slumped back in his seat. ‘Fuck me. Enzo, the shit, never leaves. I saw them all talking with him. Do you think he’s pitting them against us?’
‘How the fuck should I know? Just get us to Waverley.’
Marcus sat back and folded his arms. He needed a plan, something that put him above the rest of the associates, above Carl. Something that proved his usefulness to Gaetano and that Waverley was not a dead-end neighbourhood.
The car pulled up to Waverley’s manned gate a short while later. Marcus spotted commotion inside. He used the car’s intercom to speak with the guard at the gate.
‘What’s going on here?’
‘Some problem with the generators.’
The generators were garbage. It was easy to sabotage them; Marcus only wished he’d thought of it sooner. But he could still use Kevin to piss off a few residents. Fire them up.
A revolt. That’s what Marcus needed here. Then he would swoop in and stop it. Show Gaetano just how close his dud neighbourhood had come to upsetting the Kings’ control. And how Marcus had saved the day.
‘Do you have everything under control?’ said Marcus to the guard.
‘Yes, sir. They’re too busy scrambling among themselves to cause us problems.’
‘Good.’ He spoke to Carl. ‘Turn the car around. There’s nothing to do here. Leave them to run around for a while.’
‘We headin’ back to the mansion?’ Carl looked disappointed.
‘No. I’ve got a better idea. I know this place.’ He gave Carl the address and Carl smiled.
‘Yeah, I like it. Fuck Enzo.’
He wasn’t supposed to drink while on duty, but Marcus needed some time away from the mansion. He wanted to process what Johan had said and plan how to start a Waverley revolt.
25
Isobel still couldn’t believe that Ben had found Alex. He’d returned with a list of thirteen names, addresses and vague physical descriptions of each Sinclair. She knew which Alex was hers: the one in Long Island. As she followed Ben to Waverley’s gate wearing clothes one size too big and a headscarf, the butterflies refused to settle at the thought of seeing him again. Ben carried a satchel that rattled with a bunch of oxygen canisters from Sal for their trip out of town.
She yanked her scarf down over her eyes ignoring the things the guards said about her as they passed through the gate. While she could hide her yellow-flecked eyes, her genetically advantaged height made it clear what she used to be. What she still was.
They hitched on the back of several vehicles used by the criminals and arrived on the outskirts of Long Island within the hour. For some reason the cars didn’t go any further. Isobel stood with Ben outside a tall apartment block with a grey facade and blackened windows. The building looked to be in better condition than some of the structures in Waverley neighbourhood. But the broken windows near the bottom showed that people had stopped caring for this area. Isobel counted down from the top until she reached the thirtieth floor, the level of Alex’s apartment. She imagined him looking down at her. Did he know she was here?
Butterflies danced in her stomach. He’s here. I can feel him. She took a step forward but hesitated, remembering what Sal had said to her recently: ‘You need to find your husband, Isobel. But you must prepare that he may not want to see you.’
‘What if he’s not the right Alex Sinclair?’ She stared at the building.
‘What if I don’t recognise him, or he doesn’t recognise me? It’s been eight years. I don’t look the same as I did back then.’
Ben linked her arm. ‘There’s only one way to find out. Come on. Let’s knock on his door.’
Isobel eased her arm free. ‘I appreciate the offer, but I must do this on my own.’ She had come too far to turn back now. She had to know.
‘Of course. I didn’t mean...’
Isobel caught the look of hurt on Ben’s face. ‘It’s not that I don’t want you there. I’ll come find you after. Stay close.’
Isobel left Ben behind and approached the main door that had a broken control panel. She discovered the door to be unlocked and slipped inside. The stone floor chilled her feet, even through her shoes. She shivered in the pitch black corridor that she saw with perfect clarity. Before she could change her mind, she raced up the stairwell to the first floor where she passed through a force field. Then she hit the tenth floor, and the twentieth. By the time she reached the thirtieth, she was breathing hard. The overhead lights flickered on and off in the long grey corridor. Her shadow played on the door of apartment 313. She tilted her head to listen. Her stomach lurched when she heard movement inside. It’s now or never, Isobel. You have to know if this is a waste of time.
She knocked on the door and held her breath. The door opened and a face peered through the crack. Isobel drew in a breath. She almost didn’t recognise Alex Sinclair. He sported a thick beard and his hair had grown out past his ears. Her Alex had always been clean shaven.
‘Can I help you?’ said Alex. He sounded nervous.
‘It’s me,’ she whispered, pulling the scarf off her head. Alex stared blankly at her but she caught the brief glimmer of recognition on his face. Then the glimmer vanished.
‘I’m sorry, you have the wrong apartment.’ He went to close the door, but Isobel stuck her foot against it.
‘You know it’s me. I can smell your fear.’ She wished she could read his thoughts, his emotions, but she still couldn’t access her telepathic ability.
‘I don’t see how.’ His tone was sharp. ‘You’re one of them, a devolved human. You probably have a dampening chip. Doesn’t it affect all your senses?’
Isobel frowned. ‘How do you know what I have?’
Alex tried to close the door again. ‘Please remove your foot. I don’t want to talk to you.’
She pushed her way inside. A wide-eyed Alex stumbled back from the door. ‘Please. You have to leave. You can’t be here.’
Isobel’s spirits sank as she closed the door behind her. ‘I came a long way to see you, Alex. Stop pretending you don’t know who I am.’
Alex wore a navy-blue jumper with holes and creased brown trousers—such a different look from his neat appearance. He scratched at his arm through the jumper. He could barely look at her. ‘I’m not the same person you married, Isobel. If you’re here for answers, I have nothing to say about what happened to you.’
‘What are you talking about? What happened to me?’
‘I can’t do this Isobel... I can’t have you in the apartment. I’ve got things just the way I like.’
What did he think she came to do? Destroy his life?
‘This is silly, Alex. I only want to talk.’ She walked around his small, but neat, living space—just how Alex liked to live. Their apartment had been much bigger than this shoebox. She stopped when she recognised items from their time together: an empty sterling silver frame that used to hold a picture of them; an old carriage clock stuck on the wrong time that they’d received as a wedding present. Isobel reached out to touch it but Alex went crazy.
‘Don’t touch anything. Please step away.’
Isobel held her hands up and backed off. ‘Okay. I didn’t mean anything.’
Alex scratched his arm again. The action triggered a memory of the cuts he used to have on his arms. She didn’t know why, but she needed to see them now.
‘Let me see your arm.’
He stared at her. ‘No!’
‘Please. I only want to see. I won’t touch you.’ The more he hid them, the more curious she became.
Alex hesitated. ‘Why?’
‘Because I want you to show me.’ She spooked him when she reached out for him. ‘Unless you’d prefer I do it myself?’
Alex recoiled from her, visibly repulsed by her proximity. Isobel’s hope of reconciling with her husband died. ‘I’ll do it,’ he said. He pulled up the sleeve of his sweater. She saw dozens of vertical cuts and horizontal slashes on his arm. It looked like Alex was trying to dig something out of there.
Isobel didn’t remember the cuts ever being that bad. ‘What happened to you?’
He pulled down his sleeve. She saw a sheen of sweat on his forehead and detected an increase in his heart rate. ‘Please. You have to go. I can’t stand this.’
‘Can’t stand what?’
‘Being so near to you.’ He scrubbed at his arm, clawed at his belly with his fingernails.
Isobel froze as she realised something. ‘Tell me you had nothing to do with my alteration. Please say you didn’t.’
Alex focused on his arm.
‘Well, did you?’
‘Charles Deighton was adamant I volunteer for the programme but I just couldn’t bear the thought of—’
‘So you volunteered me in your place?’ She made fists of her hands.
Alex’s voice wobbled as he scratched his arm. ‘Deighton had a thing for you. He wanted to change you. But he also wanted to change me. He felt I would be of more value on Exilon 5 than here. I convinced him you were worth two of me.’
It took a moment for it to sink in, for her to understand why Alex had found it so easy to betray her. The cuts on his arm grew bloody from where he continued to scratch. ‘How long have you had acarophobia?’
Alex stared at the empty photo frame. ‘For as long as I can remember.’
‘While we were married?’
Alex nodded. ‘My condition got worse as talk of the alteration programme increased. I couldn’t bear the thought of the nanoids crawling inside me.’ He shivered so hard Isobel had to turn away.
If Alex believed his skin already crawled with mites or insects, the alteration programme would have been a living nightmare.
She looked back at him. ‘I’m sorry, Alex. I never knew.’
‘I didn’t want you to know. I had control over it then.’
Her sorrow flowed for this shell of a man she used to love. She stared at the broken individual stood before her who had lost control of his condition. At least she could cope with what had happened to her. But Alex would have to live with his compulsion his entire life. But she needed to know everything. ‘What happened the day they altered me? How did the World Government do it?’
‘If I tell you, will you leave me alone? I can see the nanoids crawling under your skin right now and I’m pretty freaked out.’
There were no nanoids left in her body, but no explanation would ever convince Alex. In her twice-altered form, she represented everything he feared. Acarophobia was a crippling condition.
‘Yes, I promise to leave.’ She would find her own way in life, without him. Alex tore at the skin on his face until red welts appeared. He moved to the other side of the room, away from Isobel, and folded his arms. Isobel stayed close to the things they both owned and the only things she recognised in the room.
‘It was eight years ago,’ he said staring at the floor.
‘When the humans curbed the activities of the Indigenes on Exilon 5? Why?’
‘The government had just created an Indigene called Serena. They ran parallel experiments to test variations in her code. Some people were partially changed using her DNA. The changes produced normal changes, nothing extraordinary. But some genetic alterations could not be reversed. A sudden loss of hair would have been hard to explain. Rather than leave the half-turned test subjects on Earth, the government turned them fully and sent them to Exilon 5 with false memories. It was their onl
y choice. How would they explain this altered group of individuals to the people of Earth? The genetic clinics weren’t equipped or skilled enough to hide such changes. So the government did what it had to do.’
‘That’s when they changed me.’
Alex nodded, meeting her gaze.
She focused on his heartbeat. It sounded a little erratic, but was mostly steady. ‘You sacrificed me so the government would leave you alone?’
‘I had no choice.’
She understood his reasons, but it didn’t matter. ‘What about my choice? Do you think I wanted this?’
‘I had no choice.’
‘So how’s your life working out for you?’
He looked away.
Isobel smiled. ‘Did you know that if you’d gone through with the alteration, the nanoids would have fixed your phobia? How’s that for a solution?’
Alex met her eyes. ‘I had considered that, but I couldn’t bear the thought... I prefer to know that my body is my own.’
‘It would have been over and you could have had a decent life instead of... this.’
Alex scratched his face, drawing blood. ‘I’m doing everything I can not to force you out of my apartment. But you have me at a disadvantage because I can’t touch you, not when I can see the nanoids just below your skin. You promised you’d leave, Isobel.’
Isobel would go when she was ready. ‘You had no right doing what you did, Alex. You had no right deciding my future for me.’
‘I know.’
‘But I’m coping and surviving the best I can in this world. Would you like to know what my life has been like since? Or what it’s like now?’
‘No.’ Alex glanced at the door. ‘I can’t do this. Please...’
Isobel sighed and opened the door. She turned back one last time. ‘Goodbye. Alex. I hate you for caring more about you than me, but I understand why you sold me out. I never wished this life for you. I hope you find some peace. And one day, I hope I can do the same.’
She closed the door and heard hurried footsteps, then something being sprayed on the other side. He was probably disinfecting everything she’d touched.